


keep the gears in line

by Lire_Casander



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alex Is His Own Warning, Allergies, Angst, anaphylactic shock, mentions of an abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: tk has always had a hard relationship with berries, for one reason or another
Kudos: 105





	keep the gears in line

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: **911 Lone Star Prompt: TK being allergic to blueberries but he LOVES them so Carlos + the team are like *sees TK holding a box* "what's in your hand?" "blueberries" "nO!"** Please heed the warnings.
> 
> I think this has fallen a little bit far from what you initially prompted, anon, but I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> Title comes from _I’ll Keep You Safe_ by Sleeping At Last.
> 
> Beta'ed by the always amazing [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). Thanks a lot for your help with this!

**[Owen]**

The first time Owen Strand held his son in his arms, he felt the thrill of a new adventure unfurling before him — the immense love that knew no ends, and the paralyzing fear that crept up his spine and told him he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of another human being. But then Gwenyth smiled at him from the hospital bed, exhausted but so beautiful, and Owen knew that together they would be an invincible team supporting this tiny bundle in his arms. 

“I will always protect you, Tyler Kennedy,” he promises his son, fast asleep in his arms, before giving him to Gwenyth to hold him. 

“Heʼs incredible, isnʼt he?” she asks in a soft voice, one fingertip tracing the babyʼs chubby cheeks. 

“Heʼs our miracle,” Owen tells her. 

TK proves to actually be a miracle a few months after turning one year old. It’s Owenʼs day off at the station, and it seems the stars and planets have aligned because Gwenyth is also free of her court duty for the first time in three weeks. They havenʼt been able to spend time together as a family for the longest time, with Owen working night shifts to be able to take care of TK during the day while Gwenyth battles her own rightful wars against criminals. Theyʼve been two ships in the night, crossing paths too exhausted to do more than a peck on chapped lips and a pat on TKʼs head while he sleeps in his room. 

“Today is going to be a great day,” Owen tells his son. Heʼs flittering around the kitchen while TK is sitting in his high chair, spoon in hand and puree everywhere but in his mouth. “Careful, son,” he chuckles, grabbing his sonʼs hand and guiding a spoonful of fruit meal into TKʼs mouth. “Better. Isn’t it yummy?” 

“Are my guys ready for an adventure?” Gwenyth questions from her spot leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a playful smile on her lips. “What do you say, we go on a picnic to Central Park?” 

TK coos. Owen thinks he might die from the way his heart swells every time he watches his son, no matter what he does — be it a milestone like taking his first steps or a mundane thing like getting his food all over his clothes — and he takes a second to look at Gwenyth, to share an intimate look with her, one look that talks about promises of forever with her and this kid who has taken his whole heart and doesn’t seem to let go of it. Owen is fine with living with half his heart if it means TK gets to experience a love so big. 

A second is all it takes. 

TK begins to choke on thin air, apparently, the spoon falling to the floor with a metallic noise, clacking on the tiles and echoing like a gunshot in the deadly silence that falls upon them. When Owen looks at his son, TK is beginning to show some shades of blue in his face, his chubby fingers closing and opening with his hands stretched in front of him, as though asking Owen for help. He doesn’t understand whatʼs going on, but he is a first responder. He knows what to do. 

“Call 911!” he cries out, sliding across the floor to catch his son, whoʼs trying and failing to budge from his seat. “Heʼs choking!” 

The wait for the ambulance feels eternal, although objectively Owen knows it canʼt be more than just a couple of minutes — they live around the corner from his own Station. He knows that, as soon as his team recognize the address, they will be bursting through the door in no time. 

“We got a kid in distress code,” Jackson says as the 252 rush to the kitchen, Laura and Pete hot on his tail. “Here, let me,” he instructs with a soft voice, prying Owenʼs fingers — caught in TKʼs clothes in an attempt to help him breathe — open from his deadlock grip on his son. “Heʼll be fine, I promise.” 

Owen doesn’t catch half of what theyʼre saying and doing to his son — so tiny, so fragile — because suddenly heʼs swimming underwater. He doesn’t realize heʼs shaking until heʼs offered a warm blanket at the childrenʼs ward at the Presbyterian Hospital Columbia and Cornell. 

He doesn’t even remember riding the ambulance with his son. He just recalls a fighting Jackson when his friend had taken TK out of his sight with the promise of healing him. Has it been before leaving their apartment? Where is his son? 

“Tell me heʼll be okay, Owen,” Gwenyth whispers softly into the fabric of his jacket, crying hot tears that soak him to the bone. “I canʼt lose him. I just—” 

“Excuse me,” they both hear. When they turn around, startled, they see a young doctor holding TK in her arms. “I believe you want your son back. Iʼm Marjorie Kirkland, TKʼs doctor.” 

Owen practically trips over himself in his haste to pick his son back. TK is babbling in his baby language, and Owenʼs heart leaps forward when he sees his sonʼs beautiful green eyes looking up at him. “Dada!” 

“What happened to him?” Gwenyth questions the doctor when itʼs evident that Owen is still not ready to face a reality where his son almost died. 

“Your son has had a violent allergic reaction to blueberries,” the doctor explains. “Weʼve run some test, and itʼs a wider allergy regarding all kinds of berries, but heʼs had a really bad anaphylactic shock from eating blueberries. Thankfully, you were quick on picking it up.” 

Owenʼs head snaps up at those words. He thinks that heʼs been slow on the take, not realizing what was wrong with TK. He needs to be a better father. He canʼt afford another misstep like this one. 

They leave the hospital with their son back and they promise themselves that they wonʼt allow a blueberry — or any kind of berry — close to TK ever again. 

**[the 126 family]**

“What do you have there, Probie?” TK asks, showing up right behind Mateo and starting him. “Hey, no need to be all jumpy about it!” 

“Nothing youʼd like,” Mateo tells him, taking the box heʼs been holding in his hands away from TKʼs grasp. “Or you could eat, anyway.”

TK takes a peek over Mateoʼs shoulder, and makes a grimace when he spots strawberries, red and green and plump, inside the box Mateo has just taken from him. “Ugh, no, I canʼt eat those.” 

“Because youʼre allergic to them,” Marjan reminds him. “Just like you are deadly allergic to any other kind of berries. You just like to forget about it.” 

“I donʼt _forget_ ,” TK complains. “Sometimes itʼs difficult to tell if something has berries in it.” 

Paul scoffs at those words. “Last time you tried to eat raspberries! When you know you canʼt!” 

“I didn’t know those were raspberries!” TK lifts his hands in surrender. “I donʼt think Iʼve ever seen a raspberry before.” 

“Listen, city boy,” Judd intervenes, head peeking out from his locker door. “I know youʼve missed out on a lot of good things growing up in New York, but you canʼt possibly want to make us believe youʼve never seen a raspberry before.”

“I hadnʼt! When my parents found out I was allergic to berries, they kinda shielded me away from them. I know how strawberries look like because Alex loved them, so I knew what to avoid.” 

Marjan shakes her head. “Every time you mention that guy, I just need to bleach my ears.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Mateo whispers. “I canʼt believe all the things youʼve told us about him.” 

“How could you call him your soulmate is beyond me, bud,” Paul scoffs again. “At least you got out.” 

“Yeah,” TK mutters, turning around before his team can see the tears pooling up in his eyes at the memory that has now traitorously assaulted him at Paulʼs words. 

He rushes out of the common room, ignoring the calls from his friends — his newfound family — and he holes himself up in his bunk, hoping that they will respect his need for privacy. When he rests his head on the pillow, Buttercup approaches him and jumps on the bed, his weight on top of TKʼs legs as he allows the tears to fall and the pain to take over. 

Back in New York, Alex had called all the shots in their relationship. TK had been eager to comply to anything Alex said — if Alex had told him to jump off a cliff, TK would have asked for the time and date. TK had never had close friends in his life; he’d had acquaintances, and he’d gone out with his boyfriends’ friends, but he’d never had his own circle of friends to turn to when he’d needed support. For so long, Alex had been his only source of external affection, outside his family, and he’d reveled in whatever crumbles Alex had wanted to give to him. If Alex wanted to go out, they went out; if Alex wanted to stay in, they just chilled and watched Netflix.

If Alex had wanted a strawberry-filled cake for TK’s birthday — well, TK had never been good at denying anything to him. 

Tk had been so surprised when Alex had announced that he’d take care of the cake for TK’s birthday, since Alex hadn’t felt like throwing a party and therefore TK had told his parents he’d be over the weekend to celebrate with them — Gwenyth had accepted to go to Owen’s for the lunch they would be sharing together as a family. TK had always been proud of his parents; even after the nastier divorce of them all, with the shadow of all those victims hanging over Owen’s head, both his parents had agreed to gather together as a family for all the important events in TK’s life. That had included him graduating from school and the Fire Academy, but also all his birthdays.

Alex had chosen a strawberry-filled cake for TK’s birthday, and he’d been so offended when TK wouldn’t even taste it, knowing that even a small bite could send him straight to the hospital.

“TK?” he hears, the voice taking him back to his present and away from the painful memories that always manage to grip viciously at his heart at the most inappropriate of moments. “I know you’re in here. Buttercup’s been whining for at least ten minutes.”

“I’m here, Dad,” he calls from underneath the covers that he’s thrown over his head. “I’m fine, okay? Just needed a bit of alone time.”

“Right after talking about Alex with the team?” Owen chuckles as he sits down on TK’s bed, the mattress dipping with the movement. “Try another one, son. You seem to forget I know you inside out.”

“I just—It just hurts sometimes when I get reminded of the small things we did together,” TK tries to explain. He’s still underneath the covers. “It’s been almost a year since he—since,” TK stutters. “I’m happy with Carlos. I shouldn’t allow Alex to hurt me, even through a memory.”

“You’re still healing from what happened,” Owen tells his son. “Healing takes time. You’re doing so good, even if realizing that Alex hadn’t been good for you in so many ways seems like taking a step back. It isn’t.”

“He—” TK chokes on his own words. Frustrated, he emerges from beneath the covers and sighs as he sits up. “Once, he brought a strawberry-filled cake for _my_ birthday, because he liked it.”

“I see.”

“I know it’s silly,” TK mumbles. “But I think that was the first time I realized that Alex didn’t think about me first and foremost. And still, I proposed to him!”

“We all make mistakes, son,” Owen tries to make him see reason. “You got out, and that’s enough for now. You should be proud.”

“I got out because he dumped me,” TK squints at his father. “Not because I suddenly realized he wasn’t good for me.”

“Getting out is a process, and yours isn’t invalidated because he left you. The first time he did something good to you was when he left you. He gave you your life back.”

TK mulls over his father’s words in his head. He knows Owen’s right — he knows Alex did him a favor by confessing his affair with his trainer. “The guys wouldn’t let me eat any berries.”

“I know,” Owen laughs. “Mateo is still in shock after seeing you trying to munch on some blueberries the second night shift here. He thought you were going to die just from holding them.”

“Poor guy,” TK chuckles. “I guess I gave him quite the scare. But that’s on you, you kinda terrorized them all with your stories about how I almost died from an allergic reaction.”

“ _You_ scared us to death, TK. And you’re a reckless guy. You would be eating berries all the time just because they’re out of your diet.”

“You’re not so far off, you know.”

“TK,” Owen lands a hand on TK’s shoulder. “I love you, son. Whatever you do. Except if you try to eat another strawberry ever again.”

They both laugh, and TK feels the weight on his soul lift a little.


End file.
